


Home Again

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Bottom Dean, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of the events in and around 4x01, Lazarus Rising.  In Sam's darkest hour, a voice tells him to fear not.  Sam can only guess at what it means until he finds out, and has returned to him the most important person in his life - Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> I've been kicking this idea around for awhile, and I decided to finally sit down and write it.

Lost was only one thing that Sam Winchester felt.

Hurt was another, but he'd hurt before.

But never the complete and overwhelming hurt that he was currently experiencing.

It had been nearly four months since Dean had gone to Hell.

Four months that Sam had tried hard to cope, tried hard to find something to fill the massive hole in his heart, but there was quite simply nothing that could.

The only thing keeping him anchored was Dean's memory, the scent of Dean that still inhabitied his belongings, the worn space behind the driver's seat of the Impala, the time-tested grip of Dean's .45 in his hand. Sam had contemplated suicide (Bobby had talked him out of that really quickly, saying that the last thing Dean would want would was a dead younger brother.) He had turned to alcohol, but drinking by himself simply wasn't the same, nor did it blur out the memories. After nearly blacking out on a hunt that he'd gone on out, simply trying to find something to take his mind off Dean, he'd put away the bottle really fast after that and hadn't touched a drop since. There was no use in destroying himself.

The worst times were trying to sleep.

Those were when he missed Dean the most.

He missed the familiar weight of Dean next to him, the way that Dean held him tight as they rested, the protective way Dean's hand would splay across his heart, the soft tickle of Dean's breath on the back of his neck, the way that Dean would wake him up with gentle kisses, the post-coital bliss that always came from Dean making love to him. Sam hadn't realized how much he missed that sort of contact until it had been taken away from him.

Ruby had offered herself to him, her body ripe for the taking. She had flirted and cavorted and made an absolute show of herself, but Sam couldn't bring himself to do it. If it meant he never slept with another person again, he'd do it.

Because Dean was the only person who he wanted.

Ruby had even given him the opportunity to drink her blood, to harness the powers that she insisted were in him, had even gone so far to say that if he did so, then he could save Dean from hell. Sam knew better, knew it was simply one of her tricks, knew it was a false hope. His destiny to rule Hell was of such pathetically small concern to him next to the agonizing loss of Dean, and he couldn't think about it, not when Dean was lost to him.

Lost to him forever.

It was another night of fitful sleep, his mind racing, the image of Dean's broken body playing over and over in mind, that Sam was offered a glimmer of hope.

_Fear not Sam Winchester, for the Lord is with you._

Sam sat up, the sheets sweaty and tangled around him, the motel room dark save for the glow of the clock next to him. He looked at it, seeing that it was just past three in the morning.

“Who's there?” Sam noticed that his voice sounded broken.

_Fear not Sam Winchester, for the Lord is with you._

Sam got up, reaching for the gun underneath his pillow. “Show yourself, whoever you are.” Sam was at a loss for guessing what or whom might be speaking to him. The sound came from everywhere and nowhere, loud but soft, imagined but real.

The next thing Sam knew was light, bright, overwhelming light, and then a sensation of incredible burning on his forehead, and then the black chasm of sleep, combined with an unbearably high pitched sound that threatened to break the glass in the windows of the motel room.

The last thing he registered was _rest now, and fear not Sam Winchester, for the Lord is with you._

_. . ._

The next morning Sam woke up in a daze.

Gone was the ache of his body, and he was no longer sweating. The musty odor of the room that had been present when he checked in was gone, replaced by the smell of ozone, the air dry and clean as he inhaled. Sam got up, rubbing his eyes. He felt rested, peaceful.

It was something that he hadn't felt since before Dean died.

He reached for his phone, pulling up Bobby's number. The older hunter picked up after just a few rings.

“Hey Sam.” Bobby was still recovering from the loss of Dean too. Sam could hear it in the tired creak of his voice.

“Hey Bobby.” It had been awhile since they'd last spoken.

“You doing alright?”

Sam swallowed and closed his eyes. “Yeah.” It was a lie, but Sam couldn't bring himself to break down in front of Bobby.

“I know Sam.” Bobby put as much comfort into his voice as he could.

Sam took a deep breath. “Last night, something happened Bobby. I was hoping you could shed some light.”

Sam heard the scrape of wood against a floor, which probably meant that he was in his kitchen. “What happened Sam?”  
“Last night, I heard a voice. It said to me 'Fear not Sam Winchester, for the Lord is with you.' It said that a few more times, and then there was this high pitched sound, like really bad feedback from a microphone. And then whatever it was... I think it touched me.”

He heard Bobby pause and give a short huff of laughter.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Not like that Bobby. It was on my forehead, and told me to rest. Whatever it was, I don't think it meant to harm me Bobby. And there's something else. After I woke up this morning, the air smells... clean. Like whatever came to me last night purified the space around me. And I feel.... I don't know, at peace now. Like some of the hurt is gone.”

Bobby was silent for a moment. “Sam, I have an idea of what this might be, but I suggest you stay put for a couple days. I'll call you when I've done a little more digging.”

“Alright Bobby, I will.”

“And Sam? We'll find a way to get him back.”

Sam closed the phone as the tears started again.

. . .

Dean Winchester's life had changed dramatically in the last twenty four hours.

One moment he had been on a torture rack made of damned souls, the stench of rotting flesh heavy in the air. His limbs were being stretched impossibly far, the pain so excruciating that it broke him over and over again, only for the process to repeat itself thousands and thousands of times.

The worst part is that it was never, ever going to end.

What was even worse was the fact that he would never see Sam again.

In spite of the fact that he was locked in torture for eternity, he wasn't going to let go of the memory of Sam. Forty years in Hell and he still remembered Sam's touch like it was the night before the Hellhounds had come for him. Forty years of clinging to Sam's memory. In the precious moments during the day that he wasn't being pulled apart in horrific ways, he thought of Sam. He wanted to cry out to him, had cried out to him, trying to scream himself hoarse, but no one would here it.

No one ever would.

He knew that in his heart of hearts that Sam would be trying to get him out, would be trying his best to find a way. Even though that glimmer of hope was infinitesimally small, it kept Dean going.

Because he knew Sam loved him that much.

Right as he was about to brace himself (as much as he could anyway) for another round of torture, a loud, terrifying voice called out _Fear not Dean Winchester, for the Lord is with you._

The next thing Dean knew was light, then pain, then the incredible feeling of being put back together, piece by piece, atom by atom. Every molecule that was in place before he went to Hell was back, his body restored.

When he opened his eyes, there were no more demons, no more Hell, no more anything except for the sound of his own breathing, and....

His own breathing.

What gave him the strength to rise from his own grave, he had no idea.

But he was alive again.

And his first thought was find Sam.

How he was going to do that, he had no idea.

. . .

Sam was starting to think that he wasn't going to hear back from Bobby.

It had been a week since they had last spoken. He knew that Bobby generally worked as quickly as he could, but there was nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that not even Bobby knew that he had experienced, and much less had any information.

The voice – as Sam had taken to calling it – hadn't made itself known again since that night, but the small flicker of hope that Sam felt hadn't faded. Whatever he had encountered had not been the strangest thing he'd experienced as a hunter, but it was certainly the most mystifying.

Sam had tried doing his own research but to no avail. Summoning Ruby was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was running short of options. She was a demon, sure, but she hadn't hurt him.

Yet.

He worked the ritual and Ruby appeared, looking rather displeased with being disturbed.

“You called?” Her tone was more than a little petulant.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I did. I have something to ask you.”

Ruby smiled. “Finally going to give into the demon blood? Because if you are, I'm yours for the taking.” She pressed her body to Sam's, running her hands over his chest.

Sam grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her away. “For the last fucking time Ruby, no.”

“Come on Sam, you know you want to.” Her persistence was admirable, Sam had to give her that. “We can even...” She slid down her shorts, revealing her underwear to him. “Maybe have a little fun with it.”

Sam couldn't even be tempted, despite Ruby's considerable charms. “Get dressed Ruby, that's not what you're here for.”

Ruby fixed him with an angry stare. “Fine Sam, be that way. What is it you wanted?”

Right as Sam was about to explain, he heard a knock at the door. He made sure that the gun he kept in his belt was there, reaching behind him to draw it if necessary. The door had no peephole, so he was left to just opening the door. Not his most viable option, but he did it anyway.

Sam nearly hit the floor when he opened it and saw who was standing there.

“Dean?”

“Hey Sammy.” Sam froze. This couldn't be real. He wanted to believe it, but at the same time dared not. He fumbled with the flask of holy water and threw it at whoever it might be pretending to be Dean.

Dean closed his eyes as the cool liquid splashed in his face. “Well at least your reactions are still sharp.” Sam was standing stock still, his mind a racing jumble of thoughts.

“Dean... is it... is it really you?”

Dean whispered. “It's me baby boy.”

Sam pulled him in the doorway and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him as tightly as he could. The smell of Dean was there, the contours of his body that Sam knew so intimately were there.

Sam had one more question for him. He whispered into Dean's ear “When was out first time?”

“January 8th, 2006. Little town south of Salt Lake City.”

Sam rejoiced internally, because it was indeed Dean.

Ruby cleared her throat. “Uh, Sam – who is that?”

Sam released Dean and held him at arm's length. “This is Dean, Ruby.”

“So are you two... together?”

Like you wouldn't believe. “He's... he's my brother.”

Dean smiled at him, just a subtle upturn of his lips.

“Hey Ruby could... could you give us some time?” Sam's patience with her had run out.

Ruby was gone with a blink of the eye.

Dean moved his hands down and took Sam's in his own. He watched two tears run down Sam's face, trailing down his chin. He didn't know that to say, save for stand there and just look at Sam. Sam ran his fingers over Dean's knuckles, as if he still wasn't sure if Dean was going to disappear from before his eyes or not.

“Dean I...” Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. “I can't believe it.”

“I know Sammy. I know. Me neither.” Dean's head was still reeling from simply being alive. What was even more astounding was that he was standing in the same room touching the person he loved most in the world. “Come here.” Sam closed the gap between them, his shoulders shaking as he cried. Dean held him, running his hand up and down his spine, getting the feel of Sam back under his fingers. It was like breathing again after being underwater for a long time, a draft of cold water after being in the sun for so long. Dean felt his own tears soak into the fabric of Sam's shirt, the material becoming damp. He dared not open his eyes because he was afraid that if he did, Sam would be gone and he would be back in the Pit. He put a hand on the back of Sam's head, stroking his hair. It was just as soft as he remembered, the long strands running through his fingers easily. Sam tried to press himself even closer, not wanting to let Dean go ever again.

Eventually, Sam picked his head up and put a hand to the side of Dean's face, rubbing it, letting his fingers run over his cheeks and lips. Dean's eyes were wide with happiness, puffy from crying with Sam. “It's really you Dean. How... how did you find me?”

“It's like I just knew Sam. It was just a feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, Dean I do. How did you get here?”

“Stole a car and siphoned some gas. You know, easy stuff.” Dean gave him a cocky smile, his eyes flashing with joy.

Sam smiled back at him, shaking his head. “God I missed you. Missed you more than-” His words were stopped by Dean's finger against his mouth. “We can talk about that later. Right now I want this.” Dean took Sam's face in his hands and guided his lips to his own. Sam closed his eyes as the heat of Dean's mouth closed over his own, Dean's lips just as soft and wonderful as he remembered. Sam drank down that kiss like it was the last of some precious medicine, an elixir to heal all the ills of the earth. He felt Dean's hands move to cup the back of his head, holding him close, not daring to take them away. Sam opened up his mouth and Dean filled it with his tongue, the familiar taste of him rushing back into Sam's body, filling his soul with overwhelming joy.

It was almost too much to handle.

Dean broke the kiss after awhile and rested his forehead to Sam's, his hands still in Sam's hair. “Never thought I'd get to do that again baby boy. Never thought I'd get to touch you again.”

Sam took Dean's face in his hands. “But you are Dean. You're here, right now, with me. You don't ever have to go again.”

“And Sammy, I swear I won't. Not gonna leave your side ever again. Not for anything.”

Sam held Dean tight for a long time after that.

. . .

The next morning, Sam woke up with a lump of fear in his throat.

He very badly wanted to believe that last night was real, that Dean and he had very much gone out for burgers, had held hands under the table the whole time, had come back and fallen asleep in each other's arms.

He turned his head and immediately his fears were assuaged.

Dean was on his back, one arm thrown behind his head, the other next to him, his fingers reaching towards Sam. Sam ran his fingers over the back of Dean's hand and then took it in his own. He had fallen asleep with his head on Dean's chest but they must have moved in the middle of the night.

_Fear not Sam Winchester, for the Lord is with you._

Sam bolted upright, the covers falling down his body. “Show yourself.”

Dean stirred next to him, reaching out for Sam. “'S okay Sammy, go back to sleep.”

“Dean, wake up. Something... it happened again.”

With a sleepy yawn, Dean sat up, blinking the bleariness of sleep out of his eyes. He was expecting to see Hell, see torture, black bones, howling demons all around.

Instead he saw a motel room, hideous wallpaper, and Sam's warm body next to him. He gave a silent prayer of thanks and put his arm on Sam's shoulder. “Hey.”

Sam turned his head and looked at Dean. “Hey.” A smile was already forming across his lips.

“Never thought I'd get to wake up to your ugly mug again.” Dean's voice was still groggy with tiredness. Sam thought it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

“Is it really ugly Dean?” Sam moved closer and kissed Dean's shoulder.

“Not even a little Sam. Prettiest face I've ever seen.”

Sam laughed as he kissed Dean good morning. It was something he thought he would never get to do again, and yet here he was. Sam deepened the kiss, using his height to his advantage, and pressed Dean down to the mattress. Dean lifted his shirt over his head, flinging it to the floor.

Sam looked down at Dean's body, running his hands over it. “Whoever put you back together Dean they... they did a wonderful job. Just as I remembered. Not that I could forget anyway.” Sam straddled him, gently placing his weight on Dean's hips. Right as he was about to lean down, he noticed the handprint on Dean's shoulder. “Dean... what's that?”

Dean looked at where Sam was pointing. “What the...” He turned his shoulder up more, trying to see it better. He gestured for Sam to move off of him, and he went to the bathroom, looking at it in the mirror. “What the hell?”

_Fear not Dean Winchester, for the Lord is with you._

Dean looked up at the ceiling, swiveling his head. “Okay, this is getting freaky.” S

Sam appeared in the bathroom doorway. “What's getting freaky?”

“You're gonna think I'm crazy, but some voice keeps saying to me 'Fear not Dean Winchester, for the Lord is with you.' That's the second time it's happened.”

Sam pointed at Dean, saying “You too?”

“Wait... you've heard this... whatever it is before?”

“Yeah, last week. One night when I was trying to sleep. That's what woke me up this morning. I called Bobby the morning after it happened but haven't heard anything since then.”

Dean turned away from the mirror. “I think it's time we let him know that I'm back. And to get some answers.”

Sam nodded, his hair falling over his forehead. “Yeah, you're right.”

Dean came up to Sam and put his arms around his waist. “I'm just glad that I have you back Sammy. We're going to get to the bottom of this, and as soon as we have some answers.... we're taking a week, just me and you, and we're going to spend all of it in bed together. Got a lot of loving on you to catch up on baby boy. That's a promise.”

Dean sealed his promise with a kiss, and Sam held him tight once more.

. . .

Dean was silently relieved to find that the Impala had largely been unaltered in the time that Sam had been driving it by himself, save for a new set of tires. He noticed that there was a blanket in pillows in the back seat. Dean saw them and gave Sam a quizzical look. “I uh... those first few weeks were rough Dean. Hell the whole time was rough but... I just wanted it to feel like you were still there.”

Dean came over to Sam's side of the car and put his hands on his shoulders. “Well Sammy, I'm here now, and you'll have to try damned hard to get rid of me.”

“Can't say I really want to Dean.”

Dean smiled and squeezed Sam's shoulders. “Probably would have done the same thing Sam.”

The drive to Bobby's went by relatively quick, with Dean speeding and making ridiculous sounds of pleasure as he felt the engine rumble underneath him, glad to be back in his element. Sam smiled the whole time, letting Dean have his moment. He was overjoyed to be back in the saddle next to him, glad that some degree of normality had returned to his life.

For a long time, Dean just drove, singing along (with surprising accuracy) to his tapes, the sound of metal and his voice filling the air in the car. Sam sat with an thrown over the back of the seat, his fingers at the top of Dean's back, just touching him enough to know that he was there. Dean had smiled at him when he realized what Sam was doing, and not moved an inch away from him. If anything, he leaned back into Sam's touch.

Halfway to Sioux Falls, after stopping and filling up the Impala, Dean finally turned off the music and spoke. “Sam, I... that girl you were with. Were you two...” Dean couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Sam put a hand on Dean's thigh and squeezed. “Dean I swear that I wasn't doing anything with her. God... this is going to sound really, really lame but.... I don't think I could ever get over you.”

“Sam, you're only human. I wasn't gonna throw shit if you were getting it on with her or anything. I know I was dead and well.... I couldn't blame you.”

“Well it's hard to go to someone else after the best you've ever had is gone.” Dean turned to look at Sam, and his heart dropped because Sam was being completely honest. “Dean, I'm yours. No one else's, and I was ready to keep myself that way.”

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road and shut the engine off. He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved over to Sam,wrapping his arms tight around him. “Sammy... you... you didn't have to do that.” He picked his head up and looked Sam in the eye. “Sammy, I don't want you to every deny your own happiness just because I'm not there, alright? I'm not worth it.”

Sam's voice was quiet. “Yes you are Dean. You always have been to me.”

“What did I ever to do deserve you Sammy.”

Sam smiled and kissed Dean gently. “Guess it's just something we'll have to work at finding out, huh?”

Dean could only nod and smile.

. . .

Bobby had reacted much quicker to seeing Dean, dousing him well with holy water and even going so far as to prick him with a silver knife. After confirming that it was indeed Dean, Bobby had hugged him tight and then made them dinner. Dean sat back in his chair, Sam's thigh against his under the table, listening as Bobby explained to them the research he'd been doing.

“After calling around, doing lots of digging, and in general just plain old guesswork, the best I can figure is that you boys have been visited by angels. Or one angel. Either way, this is some high level mojo. But as best as I can figure, they aren't trying to hurt you boys. Hell I think they wanted to help.”

“That is exactly what we wanted to do.” The three of them collectively jumped and turned, fixing their eyes on the source of the voice.

“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord, and you should fear not, for He is with you.” The angel fixed his gaze on Dean and Sam. “I have done as God commanded and reunited the two of you. He had plans that can only be accomplished together, and Heaven has tasks for the both of you. I shall explain later, but Dean, you are safe now. Hell can torture you no longer. Sam, take care of him in the meantime. He needs you.”

Just as suddenly as he'd appeared, the angel was gone, the flap of wings echoing in the room.

“What... who was that?” Dean looked absolutely confused.

Sam shrugged. “Guess it was an angel Dean. No reason to believe it wasn't.”

Clearly, answers were in short shrift in the Winchester's lives lately.

. . .

 

Since it wasn't exactly a viable option for the two of them to just stick around and wait for an angel to reappear, Sam and Dean took their leave of Bobby after a couple more days, looking for something to do.

They were out of South Dakota and heading into Iowa when Dean brought up the promise that he had made earlier.

“You know Sam, we can make Chicago in about a day. Some really swanky places there. Soft beds, room service, the whole bit.”

Sam turned and looked at him, laughing lightly. “You know that's not our scene, Dean. God we can't even afford to look at those places.”

“Yeah well the other night when we went out I hit it pretty good in pool. Take a look in the side of that duffle in the back seat.”

Sam turned and opened the pocket, and his jaw dropped. “Dean, how much is this?”

“Eight thousand bucks Sammy. The poor guy was the worst pool player I'd ever seen, and he agreed to it. Fucking agreed to whatever terms I laid out.”

“See Dean, that's why people think you're a bad person.”

Dean gave Sam a punch to the arm, and too his credit Sam only flinched a little bit. It was good to just have it happen again, letting him know that his older brother was still there, still alive and breathing.

“What do you say Sammy, some big ass hotel for a few days and letting someone else take care of us for once? Clothing's optional, you know.” Dean winked and cracked a wide grin.

The thought of Dean naked for more than twenty four hours straight made Sam's decision for him in a hurry.

. . .

The last time they had been in Chicago was on a witch hunt when Sam was sixteen. He and Dean had traipsed up and down that hotel for a week trying to catch it, only for it to all end in a showdown on the lowest floor. Sam had come away from that fight with his first large scar, a wound in his side that Dean had carefully sown up while Sam laid there still.

The hotel owner had a good memory for faces and upon seeing them had given them a penthouse at a steady discount, and Sam and Dean immediately went up, ignoring their usual rule about staying on the first floor.

The place was huge, sporting two bedrooms and a large sitting area, complete with simulated fireplace. Sam couldn't help but gape, and was only snapped back to his senses when he heard Dean exclaim from the bathroom “Sammy come look at this.”

Sam set down his bag and joined Dean at his side. Dean was grinning wide and pointing at the jacuzzi in the middle of the bathroom. Sam nodded his head, saying “Want to fill that up?”

Dean was already taking his clothes off.

. . .

After staying in the jacuzzi until they were well washed and their skin was pruning, Sam toweled his hair as Dean came up behind him and put his arms around Sam's body, trailing a row of kisses down his shoulder. Sam set down the towel and turned in Dean's arms, his naked body already reacting to Dean's touch.

“Thought you wanted to eat first Dean.”

“Got more important things on my mind right now baby boy.” Dean ran his hands over Sam's chest, tracing the contours of his pecs with his fingers. “I missed this more than anything Sam. Being able to touch you, hold you.” He looked up into Sam's eyes. “Being able to tell you how much I want you.” He pulled Sam close and rested their foreheads against each other. “Never let them know how much you meant to me Sammy. Never told them we were like this. Was afraid that they would come after you, torture you too.” A single tear fell from Dean's left eye. “Couldn't stand the thought of it Sammy. Never wanted for you to get hurt, ever. Sammy... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Sorry for-”

Sam sealed his lips over Dean's, taking Dean's head in his hands. After a moment he pulled back. “Dean, I forgave you a long time ago. God Dean, no matter what, I love you. I've never not loved you, and when you were gone... it just made me realize that much more how important you are to me. And Dean, whatever crap you're carrying, I'm here for you. I'll give you what you need.”

Dean kissed him again. “Sammy, what I need is you.”

Sam put one hand on the back of Dean's head and pulled him close, their lips coming together in a way so familiar that it felt like he had been doing it all along. Dean opened up to him slowly, his body warm underneath Sam's touch, the feel of him under his fingertips as familiar and comforting as it was the first time they had done this. Sam reached down and pushed the towel around Dean's waist off, feeling Dean's arousal against his thigh.

Dean leaned against the sink, the cool marble against his buttocks making him start. Sam chuckled slightly, breaking the kiss. “We can do this on the bed you know Dean.”

“I'd like that Sammy.”

It took them a few minutes to get to the bed, because Sam paused every few steps to kiss Dean hungrily, their tongues wrestling with each other for control. Dean couldn't decide if he wanted rough or gentle, so Sam made the decision for him by placing his hand against Dean's chest, rubbing gently. He broke the kiss and said “Let me take care of you Dean.” Sam walked them back towards the bed and gently laid Dean down, coming down to straddle Dean's hips, Dean's erection pressing insistently against his buttocks.

Sam bent forward and kissed Dean gently, pouring all of the love that he had to give into the contact. He rubbed Dean's body as he did so, letting Dean feel him, feel that this was real, and not imagined. Dean moaned as Sam ghosted over his nipples, the pads of his fingers making the flesh around them harden.

Sam gasped for air as he mouthed against Dean's lips “Tell me what you want Dean. I'm here for you, all you have to do is say.”

“Need your mouth on me Sammy. Need to feel you on me.”

Sam nipped along Dean's jaw and down his neck, the taste of Dean coming back to him, flooding his conscious with memories past, of nameless motel room where they had taken each other, had proclaimed their undying devotion to one another in the throes of ecstasy. He planed wet, open mouth kisses down Dean's torso, pausing for a moment to take Dean's left nipple in his mouth, earning himself a loud groan of pleasure from Dean's lips. He sucked a little harder on the bud, making Dean writhe under him. He didn't let go until Dean pushed him off and kissed him again, and then Sam moved down further, kissing every ridge and rise of Dean's body, lips murmuring I love against the warmth of Dean's flesh, sealing and making concrete promises that were unnamed.

Sam finally settled in between Dean's legs, Dean's cock full and erect before him. Sam took him in hand, running his fingers up and down the length, licking away the precome that beaded at the top when Sam's fingers came to rest just underneath the crown. Sam slowly went down, licking his way onto Dean, Dean's hands in his hair the whole time. Sam opened his jaw wide, and slowly began to move his head up and down, the motion coming to him as easily as it had four years ago when he had first blown Dean in the Impala on the side of a backroad in Missouri.

Dean wasn't saying anything, only moaning, his grip on Sam's hair tight. Sam felt his own cock fill even further with each tug of Dean's fingers, a jolt of electricity running down his spine. Sam opened his mouth even further and took as much of Dean as he could, holding Dean in his mouth, letting the slick wetness of his mouth tell Dean how much he had missed him, how much he had ached for his touch in those months that he was gone.

Sam had been with Dean enough to know when he was getting close, and he backed off, salive and precome around his lips. He licked the mixture off and kissed Dean again, the taste of himself making Dean's desire bottom out, his body arching up into Sam's.

“Want you to open me up baby boy. Want you to fill me, want you to make me yours again. God Sammy, I need it so fucking bad.” Dean's pleas were bordering on desperate.

“I will Dean, I promise.” He kissed Dean back harder this time. “God, I missed you so fucking much.”

Sam got back down in between Dean's legs and parted them, spreading Dean open for him. He picked Dean's hips up and held him open, Dean's entrance before him. He licked his way slowly up the curve of Dean's buttock, the sensation making Dean want even more. Sam teased around his hole with his tongue, kitten licking his way there, making Dean beg in the form of needy whines and moans. Dean cried out when Sam finally licked his way in, the tang of Dean on his tongue reminding him how badly he had missed this.

Sam stayed there for a long time, letting Dean get lost in the sensation of his tongue. Sam buried his nose in the juncture of Dean's thighs, inhaling the scent of his skin as he plunged in and out, using his tongue to loosen and relax Dean as much as possible. Dean begged and begged for more, and Sam gave it to him, promising more, always more. Sam felt his own saliva against his cheeks, the wetness running down his chin as he pressed into Dean even more.

Dean was a shuddering mess before Sam finally relented, his whole body flushed red, his eyes an impossibly dark shade of green, his cock leaking precome steadily. Sam kissed his way back up to Dean's mouth, and Dean went limp when Sam's tongue came back into his mouth, the taste of himself making him shudder with pleasure. He rutted up against Sam's thigh, seeking friction.

Sam broke the kiss and whispered against Dean's lips. “Still want me inside you Dean? Or do you want me on bottom, it doesn't make a difference to me Dean. We can do whatever you want.”

“Want you inside me Sammy, please. Need that big fucking dick, need it so bad baby boy.”

Sam kissed Dean one more time and moved off the bed. He crossed over to his bag and got a bottle of lube, opening the cap up and coating his cock generously with it as he moved back over to the bed. Dean laid back and braced himself for the cool sensation of the liquid, only for it to pass quickly as Sam's warm fingers worked it into him, opening Dean up even further.

Satisfied that he wouldn't hurt Dean when he slid in, Sam positioned himself carefully, Dean laying open underneath him, legs spread wide for Sam. Sam took himself in hand and slid in, inch by inch, soothing Dean with kisses as he winced. Sam's toes curled as the heat of Dean closed around him, taking him in.

Sam caught his breath as all of him sank into Dean's body, Dean's hands tight on his shoulders, pulling Sam in even further. “God...Sam... didn't.... ah... didn't forget how big you were. Never could Sammy.” Sam smiled as he him, feeling Dean's legs close around him.

Sam slowly began to thrust his hips, rolling them as he fucked Dean's mouth with his tongue, needing to be inside and feel Dean as much as possible. The last four months of tears, anger, and frustration slowly began to melt away. Sam let his tears of happiness fall freely, the knowledge that he was with Dean again resounding in his mind, manifesting itself in whispered “I love yous” against Dean's mouth. Sam had never cried his way through sex before, but right now he couldn't do anything else, because he thought he would never get to have this again, the incredible privilege of being with Dean like this real again.

Dean urged Sam to go faster, wanted him to take him to the place that only Sam could, that of complete and total happiness. Sam sped up, his breath coming in gasps as he moved closer and closer to climax, Dean's heat spreading through his body. He felt Dean's legs tighten around him, closing over Sam's slim hips easily. Sam reached down and took Dean's now painfully erect cock in hand, stroking him as he thrust into Dean over and over again, Dean's precome soaking his fingers.

“Soon... Sammy... soon.” Sam nodded and kissed Dean on the lips as he moved faster, riding out the tight sensation of orgasm that pooled in his lower body. Dean cried out as he came, warm come striping his torso all the way up to his chin. Sam came right behind him, “Dean” pouring over his lips as he pulsed inside Dean over and over again, his come making Dean's entrance slick. Dean held Sam tight as they came down from their high, and Sam pulled out with a wince, sad to leave the warmth of Dean's body.

Dean got up after a moment and soaked a towel with warm water in the bathroom, coming back to clean both he and Sam up thoroughly, kissing over Sam's skin as he washed away the remnants of their lovemaking. He tossed the rag to the floor, and then gathered Sam into his arms.

“You know that was only round one, right?”

Sam nodded against Dean's chest, closing his eyes and trailing his fingers over his skin. “I know Dean. Just... it was something that I didn't think I'd ever get to feel again.”

Dean kissed him on the top of the head and rested his cheek there. “Me neither Sam. But here we are, and I'm not going to leave you again Sam. Want to know what hurt the worst Sammy? Knowing that you were lonely. Knowing I couldn't be there to take the hurt away. That was worse than forty years of torture.”

Sam looked up at him, his eyes moist. “But you're here now Dean. You're here, and it's.... it's perfect. We'll get through this Dean. We'll get some answers but right now... just let it go for awhile. Let me take it away from you. You've carried me since I was an infant, and I can never even begin to tell you what it means to me. But the one thing I'm sure of Dean is that I'm whole again. I have you back, and it makes up for all the pain that I've experienced.”

Dean hugged Sam tight, not saying a word, his fingers curling into his hair, and that's when Dean knew.

He was home again.


End file.
